Star Wars: Sentence of Death
by OmegaPhattyAcid
Summary: The Clone Wars have ravaged the galaxy for nearly three years now, leaving trillions dead or displaced. The Republic is finally on the verge of victory, but a far more brutal conflict is set to begin. Jedi Padawan Padros Vezan and clone trooper "Edge" struggle to find their place in the galaxy as everything they've fought for is redefined into a new empire.
1. Chapter 1

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 **Star Wars**

 _Sentence of Death_

 _Chapter 1_

The moon sat high in the sky over Darmoth, indicating that patrol still had several hours before relief. Clone trooper CC-9991, or "Edge" as he prefered, shouldered his rifle once he exited the cover of the jungle and the main camp was in view.

"Sector clear," he stated on the command channel of his comlink, before he added "another uneventful night, as are more to come," on the local feed. The camp looked like a ghost town now that major operations had discontinued, and the bulk of the troops had been reassigned.

Just as Edge neared the perimeter, there was movement in his peripheral, and he drew his pistol in favor of the cumbersome rifle. Before he could aim to fire, the pistol was ripped from his grasp by an invisible hand, and he was knocked off balance by a sudden burst of kinetic energy which sent his rifle tumbling. A young man sprung from the shadows and lashed out with a high kick, but Edge managed to duck and counter with an elbow thrust towards his opponent's head. The assailant diverted the strike and caught Edge with a sharp jab in the throat. The stiff undersuit of his armor absorbed most of the attack, but Edge still wheezed at the blow, and stumbled to regain his balance.

The melee was cut short by the sounds of primed blaster rifles as a squad of clone troopers responded to the disturbance. They pointed their weapons at the young man, who raised his hands in surrender, but Edge interjected.

"It's okay!" Edge coughed. "We were sparring, false alarm boys."

The troopers acknowledged him and cautiously lowered their weapons. Darmoth had been host to intense fighting throughout the war, due to the wealth of untapped resources necessary to the production of the Separatist droid army, but recent events had left the territory uncontested. Now the Republic was just playing guard duty, while Separatist resources continued to dwindle. The troopers weren't used to the stillness of the jungle yet, or the possibility of an end to the Clone Wars.

The promise of a round of drinks was enough to send the troopers grumbling back to their posts, leaving Edge alone with his troublesome companion. The padawan had always expressed a fondness for him, likely due to Edge's equally deviant personality. Clones were bred to be loyal soldiers, but they were also designed to think independently and were only identical up to 99.7% of the time. Edge had always felt different. "You've got too much Jango in you," was the common joke; it was true though. The original genetic host was a strong willed Mandalorian, and one of the most successful bounty hunters in the galaxy. If Edge had assimilated a greater degree of Jango's craftiness, he wasn't complaining. It had allowed him to survive most of the war, but his mouth seemed to get him in an equal amount of trouble.

"That wasn't an invitation Padros, don't pull this crap while I'm on patrol. Duty and ego are not one in the same."

"You yourself say that if you don't use it, you lose it, and you sounded bored," the young man shrugged as a slight grin appeared on his face.

"I do say that, fair enough. It was a good exercise in responsiveness, but don't be making a habit of it." Edge chastised.

"I won't," Padros chuckled, "...but can't I have a little fun while Charren is away?" The young man reached out with the force and levitated the pistol back to Edge.

"Where is he, Padros?" Edge pushed, curious to know where the Jedi general had disappeared to over the last few days.

"I'm really not supposed to talk about it, but seeing how the Separatist fleet jumped system… He led the squads that went down into the mines, to clear out the last pockets of resistance."

"I don't get it, what's special about that? Why aren't you with him?" Edge paused. "I thought masters and padawans were supposed to work as a unit."

"We are, but this war is already taking a turn towards politics. Chancellor Palpatine is concerned the Jedi are too few now. He has recommended that we rely on troopers and special forces instead of leading the assaults ourselves. Padawans in particular are to be held in reserve, which is why Charren left me with the battalion."

"Raiding the mines is dangerous work. The potential collapses, lack of comms, ambushes... I see he didn't want to cause a fuss with high command." Edge agreed.

"He told Commander Joran he would be unavailable, "meditating" in his private chambers. I'm supposed to be meditating, but I guess he isn't setting the best example," Padros grinned again.

"Well I respect his loyalty to his troops. Come on kid," Edge waved Padros to follow him on the next patrol.

The pair returned to camp an hour later, and decided to pause by some storage crates just near the perimeter. Edge would have one last patrol before he was relieved for the night, and he still felt wide awake.

"I'll have to head out again in fifteen," he told the young Jedi.

Padros yawned and hoisted himself up onto a crate. "Sounds good, I think I'll return to my quarters. Maybe I'll even do some meditating," he chuckled.

Edge glanced around to make sure there were no officers nearby, and hopped up on a crate adjacent to Padros. He then unsealed his helmet and took a deep breath of the unfiltered, fresh air. He smiled at Padros, who returned the expression.

"What are you going to do after the war?"

The question caught Edge by surprise. "Me?" he stammered. "Uh, I dunno I guess I never thought about that."

"The war will end," Padros replied. "We won't need the Grand Army of the Republic forever. And what about when you retire?"

Retire. The idea had never occurred to him before. As a clone, he had been bred for one thing, and that goal would soon be accomplished. He could feel the contortions on his face and looked back at Padros who was focused on him intently.

"I guess I have some meditating of my own to do, eh?" he finally replied.

Padros merely smiled, and jumped off the crate. "Well you have five more minutes to sit and think, and then you get to take a nice long walk. I'll leave you to it." The Jedi then turned and began to head towards the base.

"Padros!" Edge called to him. "What do you plan to do after the war?"

"Restore peace. And order," and Padros was gone.

For a moment, Edge considered the response. Wasn't that what they were doing every day? It was likely a political answer he figured, and more referent to the aftermath than the actual violence of the war. A light wind picked up and he decided to simply enjoy the peaceful moment before his final patrol.

He took a deep breath before he jumped to the ground, slung his rifle and then picked up his helmet to examine it. The helmet was considered "Phase I," and more Mandalorian in appearance than the reissued "Phase II" equipment. Not many clones chose to continue wearing the older design, but he had seen it as a means of expressing his heritage and likeness to Jango Fett. As an ode to his "father", and as part of the joke, he had painted his helmet to match Jango's Mandalorian clan design, with a blue border around the "T" shape of his visor and contours that resembled cheekbones.

He instinctively began to put it on, but hesitated as he thought about his conversation with Padros and ran his fingers along the painted contours of the helmet. He had been bred for war and to serve the Republic, but genetically speaking, he was Mandalorian. The same blood flowed through him as Jango Fett. He even wore the markings of a Mandalorian clan, and yet for all of this, he didn't know which clan it was, or what their people were even like. He wasn't like Jango Fett, who had been born into his rightful culture. It made him feel strange, like he didn't really know himself, or have a family. Sure, he had his clone brothers, but now he couldn't stop wondering what it was like to be a true Mandalorian.

Edge sighed.

The paint on his helmet wasn't even the right shade of blue to match Fett's. It was chipped, and there were scuffs and dents all over the helmet. He had fought countless battles in it, and even though the war was winding down, he suspected it would see plenty more wear and tear for years to come. For a moment, he considered trading it in for new and improved Phase II model. He wasn't a Mandalorian; he was a soldier of the Republic. He was also behind schedule for his final patrol.

He looked around the camp, surprised there were still no officers to be seen. It seemed strange, but that also meant his tardiness and improper display of uniform would go unnoticed. A gentle breeze rolled in, and he allowed himself to relax again. He decided not to wear the helmet, but carried it along. Tonight he would just be himself.

He was only a few paces from the perimeter when blaster fire erupted from within camp. Edge spun on his heels, dropped his helmet to the ground, brought his rifle to bear. He scanned everywhere, but no hostiles were in sight. He paused for another moment, confused at the direction from which the firefight had erupted, and watched as stray bolts spewed from the main complex.

"An ambush? Here?" he thought. He needed to get back on comms, and reached for his downed helmet. He could hear the chatter before it was even over his head.

"The Jedi is running!" "Men down, we have one hostile!" "Where's the general?" "Traitors!"

"Find them! Spread out! Vanguards ready, kill on sight!" Commander Joran sounded harsh over the feed, and the base alarms started to blare. Edge felt the hair on his neck stand up, bewildered by the words his brothers had uttered. He leaned up against a crate and continued to watch the base interior from the perimeter.

Had the foolish boy attacked another guard out of boredom? He questioned himself. No, Padros would never go as far to kill innocent beings. It wasn't characteristic of any Jedi, even a reckless padawan. Something had happened, and he considered hailing the commander, but he caught movement in his peripheral. It was Padros, and he was sprinting with supernatural speed, despite an obvious limp. Edge felt fear in his gut, unlike anything before, but managed to stand up and flag Padros' attention. The Jedi altered his course and stumbled into the cover Edge occupied. The fear grew worse as he regarded the wild-eyed Jedi, who's robes and armor were singed by blaster fire.

"What did you do!" He blurted out.

"I...what? I was meditating and suddenly there were murderous troopers everywhere! What are comms saying?"

"I just put my helmet back on, all I know is they are trying to kill you, and your master." Edge rambled, while silently cursing himself for breaking protocol.

"Charren, we have to warn him! He's cut off from comms down there!"

"But so are the troopers," Edge corrected. "Let's worry about you right now."

It didn't make any sense, why the others had turned on the Jedi so abruptly. "Something must have happened, Padros. Maybe the Jedi did something you don't know about, but you need to hide until we can prove your innocence."

The sound of troopers could now be heard in the distance, and they needed a plan.

"How bad is it?" he said more to himself as he inspected the Jedi's wounds. The body armor had been incinerated at the lower right section of the chest, and the skin was severely burned. "How are you still conscious Padros?" he gasped. You need to be rushed to a bacta tank!"

"I'm not sure that's an option... The force can give me strength for now."

"More like adrenaline will give you strength. Let's get you into the jungle. I'll come back for medical supplies and try to figure out what the hell is going on."

Edge hefted Padros to his feet, and did his best to ignore the painful look on his face. Shock and fatigue were already setting in for the young man. The odds were slim he would make it, but Edge had to try and save his friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone, I wanted to answer some questions you may have about this story before you get any further:

This story was designed for a teen audience at the minimum and I'm putting a lot of work into making sure adults can enjoy this too. A lot of us have grown up with Star Wars so I want it to grow with you! It is my hope to deliver a story on par with what James Luceno (Darth Plaguies, Tarkin, etc.) and Timothy Zaun (Thrawn, etc.) produce, as I am a huge fan of their styles.

This story will be written to fit into the existing Disney cannon as best I can, but I may miss some minor details here and there. I also plan to pull some elements of EU into the story.

I've put out the first couple chapters for everyone to read and get into, but expect a longer delay for future chapters. My plan is to write 3+ chapters at a time so I can go back and modify details if necessary. When Chapter 3 drops, expect 4 and 5 to follow in weekly releases. I hope to get ahead of the curve now so that when everything gets crazy, you aren't left hanging for too long.

I have every intention to finish this story and expect it to be as long as a feature-length novel (100,000+ words).

If you like this story, follow or write a review! I love getting positive feedback and constructive criticism.

If this story gets enough traction, I'll look into the possibility of an audiobook, free on Youtube.

Thanks again for reading, -OPA

 **Star Wars**

 _Sentence of Death_

 _Chapter 2_

The jungles of Darmoth were dense, dark labyrinths, full of gnarled trees, dense foliage, and abandoned mines. It was the perfect place to hide, but the last place anyone wanted to be lost in. Edge had learned this lesson time and time again over the last year. For every Separatist droid that ambushed them in the thick jungles, they had found one broken down or simply out of power; subsequently, the jungle was littered with them now. At least without the threat of battle droids, only half as many things were trying to kill them now.

"Ah shit, this ain't good," he muttered as he crouched over the fresh Nexu tracks that shone in the moonlight. The cat-like beasts were fast, cunning, and had proven capable of killing entire patrol squads in ambushes; the cursed jungle had been full of them too. Charren had initially placed an order for infrared huds to help track and avoid the Nexu, but it was repeatedly delayed. Commander Joran eventually hired Trandoshan hunters to purge the valleys of them during the campaign. Sightings were rare now and the beasts exercised far more caution after the purges, but the commotion that night must have stirred the curious creature. He frowned, seeing how the tracks followed a small stream deeper into the jungle, the same way he had hoped to take the young Jedi.

Padros ducked under a low protruding branch as he caught up to him. They had only trekked a short distance into the jungle, but it was already as dangerous as staying in the camp. He held up his fist to indicate a halt. The padawan obeyed, and silently took a knee. He had been holding up well, despite the grievous injury. Edge just prayed the Nexu didn't pick up the scent of charred flesh.

He tapped an external sensor on his helmet and activated his comlink. Commander Joran had probably tried to hail him by now, but he was out of range at this distance. Besides, he ignored Joran all the time now that the Separatists were gone; he could just play oblivious to everything when he got back. He switched to the local feed and listened intently for even the faintest chatter.

"Still no echoes, good," he thought.

The dense jungle had a nasty habit of inhibiting short-range communications, until units were practically on top of one another. Friendly fire had claimed more than a few lives in the campaign, so the eventual delivery of infrared huds were issued to squad leaders and special units and proved extremely effective in the prevention of further incidents. Edge could have been issued a set as a patrol, but his false Mandalorian pride had disadvantaged him again. They were only compatible with Phase II firmware, and he always boasted that he didn't need one anyways. He cursed under his breath.

Given recent events, Edge had a feeling Commander Joran had repurposed them. Hunting parties would surely find Padros unless they moved deeper into the jungle. It was a great situation, he mused sarcastically. He had to decide between Padros being eaten or incinerated. An idea struck him. He removed his combat knife and turned to Padros.

"I need to exchange this with you for your lightsaber," he stated firmly.

Padros just stared back at him for a moment with a startled look. "What will you do with it?" he finally asked.

"I'm going to create a beacon, and lead any hunting parties away from here. If I'm careful, they won't see me, only my heat signature. I'll retreat to my patrol route like nothing happened. When they find me, I'll say I saw you and point them in another direction. I can then return to camp like a normal patrol, try to figure this mess out, and get you some bacta."

"...and what of my lightsaber?"

"Well, I'll… have to ditch it."

Padros frowned.

"But I can recover it for you after!" Edge continued. "We can't go further," he said as he pointed at the Nexu tracks. "And we can't go back. We can't stay here either unless I do this.

Padros was still reluctant.

"It's just that I'll be defenseless without my lightsaber. I was trained never to-"

"Look at what I'm doing for you Padros!" Edge cut in. "I have commit mutiny against the Republic I swore to protect! I have no intel on why you are considered a threat, and still I'm here trying to help you! Nothing about this is guaranteed, we have to take risks now!"

"Why are you doing this for me Edge?

Edge baulked at the response.

"Because… you are- were my commander, and my friend. It isn't like the Republic to execute you either, no matter the crime. You deserve a trial at the very least."

"A trial for what though?" Padros pleaded.

The fear in his eyes was genuine. Edge had never seen a Jedi display such emotion, and it made the situation feel even more questionable. He decided to press the young man one last time.

"You're sure you have nothing to tell me about the Jedi, Padros? Not even the slightest idea of what's going on?" The words were heavy on his tongue, but they hit the the poor padawan even harder.

"No, there is nothing! I don't know anything more than you, but the Jedi would never betray the Republic!" he declared and dropped heavily onto a stump and buried his face in his hands.

Padros looked weak and gaunt now, but it had been a necessary test. Padros wasn't a Jedi yet; he was a child still, and terrified of everything he had to lose. Edge removed his helmet, sat down next to him, and put an arm around his shoulders.

"Don't worry, I believe you kid," he said reassuringly. He gestured with the knife again. "Now take this and give me the lightsaber."

* * *

To call his plan risky was an understatement, but a keen survivalist had to be able to create opportunity from any situation. A year on Darmoth had taught Edge all the ins and outs of the jungle and he knew exactly how to find a squad of infrared equipped clones before they found him. He only had to trek a few hundred yards from where he left Padros before he found what he was looking for. The great M'Odasha trees towered over their peers and were perfect for breaching the dense vegetation that plagued communications. Like most of the trees on Darmoth, it was laden in thick vines and easy to scale. In only a minute, he had breached the canopy and perched on a sturdy branch.

It had been over a month since he last pulled the stunt, and for a second, he relaxed at the sight of the view. His eyes looked further on to the horizon and he spotted the break in the canopy where the Republic camp was located. At that instant, a large troop transport rose into the sky and accelerated in the direction of the nearby mountains. He watched intently as it faded into darkness. It seemed strange; no operations had been scheduled that night. For a moment he wondered, and then the answer felt obvious. He had assumed Commander Joran would be intent on the hunt for Padros, but he was just a padawan. Jedi Master Charren was the real prize, and far more dangerous. Edge felt a wave of urgency wash over him again, and tapped into the local comms.

He could hear the voices of a dozen troopers on the feed, which meant the squad was close, perhaps several hundred yards, and almost in range of infrared detection. He guessed he would have a couple minutes before it was time to set his plan in action. Perhaps it was too complicated. Maybe he could just signal the patrol in a false direction? No, they would question why he was so far from his route, and how he had managed to track the Jedi to such an extent without an infrared display; it was too easy to hide here. The plan would work. A lightsaber would burn hotter than anything else on their sensors and draw them away much faster. He grabbed a thick vine and rappelled to the forest floor.

Down in the thick jungle, the squad's comms were choppy, but Edge had the feeling he was already being watched. He took the lightsaber from his belt and felt its weight in his hand. The thing was heavier than it looked, but still lighter than his rifle. He took a deep breath and ignited the brilliant blue beam. For a moment, comms went silent before distorted chatter began to light up the feed.

"Target si-" "Ack-dge -saber! "Move to att-" "I d-t see it y-" "Kill - Jedi!"

Then a sharp voice rang clear "I have a line of sight on thermals!"

"Engage!" the squad leader crackled.

Edge broke into a mad sprint just before blaster fire sizzled through the vegetation in front of him and decimated the area where he had been standing.

"Son of a-" he cried, before another bolt exploded nearby.

The plan was working great, but Edge figured they got the message and decided not to worry about staying within range for their scanners. He ducked and jumped and even started to slash through vegetation as he went, both speeding his flight and carving an obvious trail for the troopers to follow. He was amazed at how easily the weapon carved through everything, and by the speed at which is allowed him to traverse the country. There was no way the hunting party had kept up, so he deactivated the lightsaber and slowed to a jog. He was closing in on his patrol sector now and needed to find a place to discard the weapon.

He passed into an clearing which looked like the overgrown ruins of an old mining site and decided it would have to do. He approached a rusted drill parked by the old mining well, popped open the service panel, and tucked the lightsaber under the electrical components. A faint echo reverberated through his comm, and he gave the sight one last memorable look before he dashed on into the jungle again.

Edge slid down a steep bank and splashed into a calm, slow-flowing stream. His undersuit kept the moisture out, but he could still feel the cool water flow around his legs and it helped him relax. He was in the clear now, and the familiar stream would lead him back to camp. The next phase of his plan had him worried and he mulled over the details as he sloshed downstream. He was exhausted now, and needed sleep, but he knew there wouldn't be any time for that in the foreseeable future. He'd have to request stimpacks from the camp medic, and get bacta for Padros somehow. Furthermore, he'd have to get permission to leave camp again if he wanted to retain his cover. Commander Joran was one of the sharpest officers he had ever served under, and would have all of his men on high alert. He wouldn't be able to sneak out.

He was so lost in his thoughts by then, when several troopers sprang from the bank above him, he was completely caught off-guard. Edge raised his arms in surrender, but they kept their guns fixed on him. Their visors glowed a dull yet menacing red tone from the infrared huds. The sergeant appeared beside his men and illuminated him with a standard flashlight. He seemed to study Edge for a moment, before he shouted:

"Remove your helmet!"

"Uh, yes Sir," he replied. Edge didn't understand, but followed the order.

He slid the helmet off and squinted into the light. They immediately lowered their weapons and the tension eased. The sergeant hopped down into the river bed with him and apologized.

"Sorry about that Edge. We're on the hunt, but we're not quite sure what we're looking for at this point."

"A hunt for what?" Edge lied. His plan may have worked better than he expected if they thought that Padros had stolen a set of armor.

"Hmm, yeah you patrols probably haven't heard any of the chatter in this damned forrest. We have new orders to kill the Jedi."

The emotionless tone of the sergeant enraged him as he thought again of the terrified look on Padros' face, and the countless times Charren had risked his life to save the soldiers in the battalion. A dull pain began to form in his head, but he ignored it.

"By whose authority!?" he challenged, before he could think better of his impulsiveness. The pain began to intensify like a headache, but he was too focused on the sergeant to worry about it.

The sergeant flinched like he too was in pain for a second, then his posture became rigid and he issued a thunderous declaration:

"By order of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself, we have been tasked with the execution of Order 66, by authorization code "Theed, R2, Prime, Valorum, Tragedy, Democracy, Victory, 501, Kyber, Empire!"

Edge felt his head explode in sharp pain and winced as his blood rushed. He began to sway but the sergeant steadied him. He was still speaking but Edge couldn't focus on the words. All he could feel was pain and anger as his body reacted to the unknown stimuli. He tried again to focus on the words the sergeant was saying. His words sounded unnatural, like they were scripted.

"Focus, soldier! We need intel! We have tracked the Jedi to this sector."

Edge's anger tempered into hate at the mention of the Jedi.

"The last scout we ran into caught a glimpse of a trooper with a lightsaber."

Edge had been helping the enemy.

"We think he infiltrated our ranks."

He knew where Padros was.

"We're checking all scout units, but I need to know if you..."

The pain surged to an unbearable level and he screamed "I know where the jedi is!" before he collapsed into the cold water.


	3. Chapter 3

This is a big release this week, enjoy!

See you next week for Chapter 4.

 **Star Wars**

 _Sentence of Death_

 _Chapter 3_

Padros hadn't moved since Edge left him, and he could feel the pain and fatigue of his wound taking hold. All he could do was reflect on the situation, and it made him feel sick. Charren would have scorned him for his pessimism of course, but there wasn't anything he could do at this point, but wait and hope that Edge's plan worked. He finally stirred from his statuesque state, and brought his fingers to his chest to feel around the wound. The armor had protected him from the brunt of the damage, but his ribs were visible amid the charred flesh. The wound was mostly cauterized but he could feel small cracks that had reopened from all of the movement during his flight. So much had changed in the last couple hours, and he struggled to process it all.

The attack in the camp had been so sudden and vicious, it was a small miracle he had survived at all. Commander Joran had brought his best soldiers to dispatch him, but his Jedi meditation had allowed him to sense them moments before they breached his quarters. The brave and enthusiastic clones he had fought with, felt as if they had been transformed. They had become cold and emotionless, like machines rather than human beings. A great fear had risen within him, and he had allowed it to take over in that moment. Instinct, rather than his training, had enabled him to survive the ensuing fight.

The clones used detonite charges to incinerate the door and storm his quarters. In his panic, he used the force to snap the first trooper's neck, then stunned the next three and cut them down with his lightsaber. Their agonizing screams made the others hesitate outside and allowed him time to cut his way out the side of the prefab shelter. Before he had managed to clamber out, Joran stepped in and fired an explosive shot into his unprotected chest. The betrayal brought out a terrible anger from deep within him, and he used the force to lash out and fling the man back through the doorway before he made his escape into the camp.

The anger had subsided at the sight of a friendly Edge, but the bitter truth was that he had continued to feed off of the fear to keep himself strong up to this point. It had taken the extended lull in action to break him free from the captivating power. The emotions he had channeled, had unleashed the dark side in him.

"A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack," Master Yoda had always instructed.

The Jedi Order was based on the principles of peace and the control of one's emotions. Master Charren too, had warned him against the corrupting influences of the dark side, but through the way of stories and legends. Over the millennia since the foundation of the Jedi Order, countless Jedi had fallen to temptation of the dark side and joined the Sith Order which embraced it. None of the stories had happy endings for them.

"Only death and suffering come from the ways of the Sith," Charren had once said in a lecture about them. "For those who left our order, thought they had set themselves free, but they only enslaved themselves to their new powers." As proof of the warning, Charren had taken Padros to an old Sith stronghold on Moraband, just before the onset of the Clone Wars. They had walked the halls together, and witnessed the waste laid to to the structure. "This damage was not incurred from Jedi or Republic attacks though," he said. "The Sith were obsessed with their individual powers. They spied on, deceived, and eventually killed one another, all under the allure of forbidden knowledge. Eventually it wiped them all out, and those who so intently sought to safeguard themselves from death, brought it down on themselves."

The Jedi on the other hand, had learned to accept death, as it was the way to become one with the force and achieve eternal peace. So many had willingly given their lives in the Clone Wars to save others and protect the Republic. Padros should have admired them for it, but had to wonder if some of their sacrifices were performed too readily, or simply in vain. What made him different from the other Jedi, was that he didn't want to die for nothing, and that had been what scared him earlier. It reminded him of council Charren had given to him at the onset of the Clone Wars:

"It is a dangerous, but mandatory path to walk, between death and survival. Just remember that with every action, there is a reaction Padros. Whether you live or die through this war, your actions will continue to affect the balance within the galaxy. That is why we must live every moment in a state of peace, to be sure we make the wisest decisions."

He considered his situation, and for a moment, wondered if he had been meant to die that night, and what reaction would become of his survival. The will of the force was mysterious though, and he could never know for sure. He shuddered again at the thought of what he had done, but couldn't deny that the power had kept him alive. All he could do now was recognize and accept that his actions had been wrong, and focus on the future.

The distant crackling of blaster fire drew his attention back to the jungle, and he knew Edge's plan was in action. For a clone, the man was extremely crafty. Knowing Edge, he'd send them climbing down an abandoned mine or something else that was ridiculous and time consuming. He let out a deep sigh of relief only to wince in pain as he remembered his condition. The only problem with the plan, was that it could take awhile. He needed to be patient, or at least distract himself. "If Charren were here, he would probably tell me to meditate now. That's a Jedi's answer to most problems," he chuckled to himself.

Charren was a truly remarkable man who constantly inspired him to improve as a Jedi. Unlike most masters in the Jedi Order, Charren believed in the existence of natural force cycles. He suspected that the millenium of domination by the light side of the force which the Jedi had strictly maintained, would only usher in an abrupt rise of the dark side again. Charren and his contemporaries, Masters Sifo-Dyas, Dooku, and Qui Gon Jinn, had eventually concluded that only balance could end the cycle, but their proposal for reformations had caused considerable unrest in the Jedi Order. Under threat of expulsion from the High Council and exile from the Jedi Order, Sifo-Dyas had completely repudiated his beliefs, while Charren and Dooku had refused and were stripped of their ranks. Qui Gon Jinn, a newly annointed master at the time, was suspended as well.

The High Council ultimately rescinded the notion of exile and allowed them to retain their ranks as Jedi Masters, but forbid them from taking new apprentices and spreading their philosophy. Qui Gon Jinn eventually returned to the good graces of the High Council and received Obi-Wan Kenobi as an apprentice. Dooku alienated himself from the Jedi Order for several years until his final departure after the death of his greatest apprentice, Qui-Gon. Charren however, had remained determined to prove the need for balance and dedicated his life to the origins of the force. He disappeared for years at a time to make pilgrimages to ruined temples and historical sites across the galaxy, determined to learn all he could of the ancient jedi before the dark side returned to prominence.

It had come as a total surprise to the High Council when he returned after one of his pilgrimages with Padros already under his tutelage. Charren had never cared for daily events or individual people. He always spoke of patterns, prophecies, and grand plans. The fact that Charren had taken an interest in anyone at all had not only broken their decree; it had marked a departure from the decade-spanning solitary nature of the old master. The Council refused to accept the apprenticeship at first, but after the eruption of the Clone Wars and the deaths of several hundred Jedi Knights, they made it apparent that they were willing to give such an "honored and long-serving" master a second chance.

He still remembered the day he met the old master. Padros had been born on Dantooine, son to a couple of poor farmers and nothing to brag about. Since a young age, he had always been the keen adventurer though, and always looked for new places to explore. Every day he would get further from home and seemingly closer to danger. His parents hated it, but they were often too busy with work to really keep a close eye on him. The history of the Old Republic and Jedi Order were his favorite subjects, and one of the few attractions to an otherwise agricultural world. By the time he was ten, he traveling to ancient historical sites by himself. When he turned twelve, he was discovering new ones; this was how he had come to meet Charren.

One day, while perusing the ruins of an ancient Jedi enclave, he happened across the old master who was poised on top of an old statue, deep in meditation. He found the man extraordinary to be capable of such a feat with seemingly little effort, and attempted to mimic him by standing on a small rock. The old master broke from his concentration to observe him, and to Charren's surprise, Padros did so with some success. He followed the old master around for the entire day, observing him from a distance with the utmost curiosity. Charren took amusement in it, and eventually invited Padros to join him in his tour of the enclave.

Besides his natural interest in exploration, Padros was also an adept scavenger. All of the ruins on Dantooine were reputed to have been picked clean over the course of thousands of years, yet together, the duo recovered a handful of artifacts including a pair of antique lightsabers. The hilts of the weapons had become heavily corroded, but Charren managed to recover the kyber crystals from each. Padros had never seen anything like them before; they were both blue in color and glowed a soft hugh. They dazzled him, which Charren recognized and thoughtfully gave him one to keep as a token of appreciation. The Jedi Master recognized Padros' abilities as more than luck though, and after speaking to his parents, whisked him away to join the Order.

Charren never had been express with Padros about why he had chosen him as an apprentice over far more promising candidates though. The old master would only speak in mystic jargon about the complexities of his essence, raw potential, and necessity to be honed. Padros was generally rebellious and too old for traditional academy training yet for some reason the old man put up with him. In truth, he was extremely grateful for all of the opportunities Charren had gifted him over an otherwise monotonous and unextraordinary life as a farmer on Dantooine.

Padros' recent behavior would come as a great disappointment to his master if he found out how easily he had deviated from the Jedi code. He could never tell Charren he used the dark side to save himself. He had to forget the past, and focus on being better. He would find serenity in meditation, just like Charren had trained him to do. Padros straightened his posture, closed his eyes, and began to feel the world around him. He felt normal again, peaceful even. His breathing slowed, and the pain from his wound faded, then he reached out further with the force.

It was one of those nights where the jungle teemed with activity. Insects chirped and buzzed, while small animals could be heard rustling in the trees above. He sensed a duo of Carrouga wander into the clearing and focused on them as they drank from the stream. His mind's eye drew close to them, and he observed their features carefully. They vaguely resembled hogs with their large snouts and tusks, but the similarities ended there, due to their reptilian eyes and bare purple skin. They were both young males, which wasn't uncommon to see together. They would separate once they matured and began to fight over mating rights. For now, they seemed to rely on one another. They drank in turn, always vigilant of the threat of predators. They were natural prey of the Nexu, but with the beasts largely purged from the valley, the local Carrouga population had rapidly increased. The battalion didn't complain a bit though, the hogs were good sport to hunt and frankly delicious. Edge had once joked that the battalion was only on Darmoth to maintain the natural balance of the ecosystem at this point.

One of the males suddenly stomped its hoof, and the other rose to attention in tune. Edge refocused on them and sensed the subtle flares of their nostrils, the release of pheromones, and then fear. They scurried back along the path from which they had come, and left Edge in doubt. He opened his eyes and snapped his head in the direction of the camp, but there was nothing to see. He concentrated in anticipation of the mysterious, hollow presence of the other clone troopers, but still there was nothing. Instead, a primal force from deep within the jungle drew his attention, and a new fear formed in his stomach. He slowly turned back and stared into the darkness from which the stream flowed.

* * *

"When will he be coherent?" a familiar voice pressed.

Edge began to stir from his unconscious state, but his body felt sore and groggy. He opened his eyes, but everything was out of focus. There were two shapes watching over him, yet despite his inhibited sight, he could tell one was a clone.

"Just give the stimulant time to work," the other voice replied with distaste. "A recovery should never be rush-"

"We don't have time! I have still have two Jedi pending elimination, and I need to know if there is anything affecting the ability of my men to carry out orders." The voice snapped back.

" _You_ don't have time, sir. I will need five more minutes. I know our orders to eliminate the Jedi, but I also have a duty to ensure the well-being of my patients. Especially this man."

Edge could feel his body responding to the stimulant now, and he began to try and make sense of the situation. The room around him was still blurry, but the bright lights and unmistakable smells of sanitizers and other chemicals indicated he was in the field clinic. He tried to move, but realized he was restrained to the operating table. His adrenaline spiked at the realization he was a captive. His vision finally came back into focus and he turned to identify the men in front of him. Commander Joran and Field Surgeon Codo acknowledged him, but continued their conversation.

"Did we get a response from the Grand Republic Medical Facility yet?" Joran asked.

"Yes, they think the incident in CC-9991 is related to a malfunctioning inhibitor chip." Codo read off his communications terminal.

"So it's true then," Joran muttered. For a moment the commander looked disturbed, as if he was fighting an internal conflict.

"This is confirmed to be an isolated case. Malfunctions have been estimated not to exceed the .3% range," Codo asserted, but Joran didn't look reassured.

"It's not the malfunction Codo. I just didn't want to believe the chips existed."

The reaction caught Edge off-guard, and he simply watched in silence as the commander troubled himself. It was a brief glimpse of the proud and calculated man Edge had so well respected during the Clone Wars. Joran seemed to stare off into the void for a moment, before he winced and regained his composure. His face changed drastically in a matter of seconds; now he just seemed intolerant and angry. Codo recognized the change too, and resumed his report.

"As you can see, his chip was automatically deactivated to prevent… irreversible damage," Codo concluded. He turned back to his terminal and continued to review the response.

All Edge could remember was the crippling pain from earlier. It was the only context he needed to hear before he blurted out "What chip are you talking about! What happened to me?"

"Is he ready to talk then?" Joran snarled.

"You are more than welcome to attempt the interrogation, but you might as well be talking to Jango Fett. The man who served as our genetic template was rebellious and exceptionally coy. You wont get any answers without a functioning inhibitor chip."

Joran ignored Codo, gripped the handles on the operating table, and stared into his Edge's eyes. He had rarely seen the commander without a helmet, but quickly concluded the man was far more intimidating face-to-face, than in full armor on a battlefield.

"You said you know where the Jedi is, Edge?" he stated, calmer than Edge expected.

He didn't remember any previous admission, but the confidence with which Commander Joran asked the question was telling. He must have cracked under the pain and pressure from earlier, and the inhibitor chip they spoke of, had obviously been the catalyst of his forced admission. Only now, his chip had been disabled and the question felt like a joke. He had no motivation to answer his commander and betray Padros. He didn't even feel pledged to the Republic now that its motives had become so questionable. The realization of his freedom was unlike any feeling he had experienced before.

There was a long silence before he replied to Joran: "I think he's doing the whole Jedi yoga thing at sunrise, on the top of a mountain somewhere. He should be back for breakfast." A grin spread ear to ear on Edge's face.

"Mission report on your patrol, Corporal. Now!" Joran roared, and grabbed Edge by the throat.

"Sir, I'm afraid you don't have the authority to do that," Codo chimed in. "In fact, you could be court martialed for damaging him alone, if his inhibitor chip is indeed malfunctioning. GRMF will want him for case study and dissection."

Joran huffed and released him from his grip. "What are our other options then, Field Surgeon?"

Codo held his finger to the screen and began to mumble while tracing the text. "I have been authorized to perform a single attempt at resetting the inhibitor chip." Codo marched over to a storage closet and began sorting through various medical cabinets. "Aha, I found it!" he declared as he raised a handheld device into the light and inspected it. "A small electric shock at the precise frequency should trigger the chip to boot again. We will be the first to attempt the reset procedure!" The old field surgeon was overcome with excitement, and looked to Joran for approval. The commander simply rolled his eyes and motioned him to get on with it.

Edge was silent. There was nothing he could do or say at that point to stop them.

Codo pulled out a small recorder from his pocket and initiated the audio capture, then turned his attention to Edge and smiled with an honest, but still terrifying look. The man always meant well, but his blind love for procedure and discovery portrayed him as cryptic and desensitized. Codo was a superb operator, but not the person a patient would find solace with; Edge would rather have a droid. At least they over-administered sedatives and painkillers.

"I hypothesize that the procedure will do one of three things..." Codo began. He set the device down on the operating table and roughly ran his fingers through Edge's hair. "One: The inhibitor chip will successfully reset and I will be able to clear trooper CC-9991 for active duty within 24 hours." He returned to the medical cabinet and fumbled through several bins again. He returned with a pair of shavers and and an unlabeled canister, which he set on the operating table, and then proceeded to shave Edge's head clean of hair. Edge tried to resist, but Codo's grasp was unexpectedly strong and held him in place. "Two: The inhibitor chip will completely fail to initiate, and require… extraction and analysis at the GRMF." He wiped the last bits of hair away and expelled a small volume of gel from the canister, which he then rubbed over Edge's skull. "Three: The inhibitor chip will overload as it did last time and result in possible brain damage, or death."

Edge objected, but Joran signaled him to be quiet. For the moment, the commander seemed to be on his side.

"We can't allow that outcome to happen!" Joran erupted. "He has valuable information that cannot be lost due to the negligence of GRMF policy!"

"GRMF believes the procedure to be completely safe. I merely suggested the third hypothesis based upon the trauma that the sergeant observed in CC-9991 prior to deactivation of the inhibitor chip."

This was what Edge meant about Field Surgeon Codo. He was the last person any patient wanted a briefing from.

"The possibility of rogue clone troopers is a justified fear that GRMF wishes to eliminate. The sooner they know if the chips can be consistently reset, the safer the Republic will be. If there are any complications, I'm sure you will get more troops for your Jedi hunt if you request them."

Joran shook his head for a moment and concluded: "Well it looks like I don't have any other options then. Proceed with the reset, Field Surgeon."

Without another word, Codo activated the charging mechanism for the device and referred back to the GRMF instructions at his terminal. He keyed away at the settings for several minutes, which only added to Edge's anxiety. It all began to sink in now. There would be no relief when the war was over, there would be no retirement, and there would be no freedom. The fleeting moments he had enjoyed as a normal human being were about to be wiped away forever, and he would be nothing more than a tool of the Republic, or whatever it had become. Codo approached the operating table with the device in hand, and Edge hoped that he would die.

"This will cause a degree of discomfort. I suggest you remain still, so I only have to do this once," Codo warned. The field surgeon calmly aligned the pins of the device on Edge's skull, and then discharged the current.

Edge convulsed in response to the shock, but it was over in a moment. He gasped for breath and his eyes darted around the room as he waited for some kind of change to overcome him. Nothing felt different to him though, and he wondered what would happen next. Codo simply studied him for a moment, not knowing what to expect either. The field surgeon then picked up his recorder and began to document everything he had performed and observed.

"The inhibitor chip has shown no signs of automatic activation, and we will now proceed with the manual activation command," Codo concluded and then turned to Joran. "Manual activation will require the authority of a commanding officer, if you will."

Joran set down his command holopad and jumped to his feet at the chance to finally engage the protocol. Edge made one last apology to Padros and readied himself for whatever came next.

"By order of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, I command you to execute Order 66, by authorization code "Theed, R2, Prime, Valorum, Tragedy, Democracy, Victory, 501, Kyber, Empire!"

A familiar pain crept into Edge's consciousness, and then a physical reaction began as well. His muscles tensed and twitched, his adrenaline surged, and he began to realize he was losing control of his body. The mental pain transformed into a deafening drone that began to swallow up his thoughts and command his attention.

He struggled to anchor his mind and latched on to the thought of Padros alone and injured in the jungle. The drone intensified until he forgot Padros' name, but Edge continued to resist. The young Jedi, who he had fought with and befriended was alone and needed his help. His memories continued to fade, but Edge continued to struggle until he forgot why he was helping the Jedi.

 _The Jedi was weak and vulnerable._

Edge only knew this much.

The drone seized his final thought and he finally felt at peace. Then another thought came to him. The thought felt familiar, like he had always known it.

 _The Jedi were dangerous, and a threat to the Republic._

A deep hate erupted from within him and his memories flooded back to him. He remembered the truth now. They had tried to kill Chancellor Palpatine, and seize control of the Republic. He remembered how Padros had killed his clone brothers, and then deceived him. Then he remembered where Padros was hiding. He clenched his fists and struggled to free himself from his restraints.

"I know where the Jedi is!" he shouted aloud. Edge looked to Commander Joran and desperately repeated himself.

"Where is he, Corporal?" Joran replied with intent.

"Not far. Maybe a click out, northeast of the camp where I left him. Not far from where Sergeant Kist spotted the lightsaber on thermals!"

"That doesn't make sense, Sergeant Kist tracked him northwest of the camp," Joran frowned.

"I had the lightsaber sir. I intentionally misled the squad," Edge admitted, embarrassed at the extent of his failure.

"Even without following Order 66, that is a direct violation of the chain of command!" Codo chimed in.

"It's treason," Joran corrected. He turned to Codo and ripped the recorder from the field surgeon's grasp, then crushed it. Codo began to object, but Joran cut him off. "I will not suffer the embarrassment these facts would cause for my battalion. I'm taking this man to assist in the discovery of the target. Once the Jedi is eliminated, I will execute CC-9991 for treason against the Republic."

For a moment, Edge broke out of the trance and wanted to protest, but a fierce headache quelled his defiance. Instead, he didn't object to his commanding officer.

Codo was shaking with rage, but Joran cut him off again.

"You will report the reset was a success and that CC-9991 died in honorable service if they ask anymore questions."

* * *

Padros rose to his feet as the unmistakable presence of the Nexu grew closer, unsure of what to do next. He sensed the creature was unaware of him for the moment, but it would surely detect him the moment it entered the clearing. His combat knife was already in hand, but he lacked any range with the small weapon and knew it would do little to intimidate the beast. Without his lightsaber, The Nexu would be a serious threat to contend with. He cursed himself for not taking Edge's sidearm, but thought better of the unwanted attention that blaster fire could draw. He knew his best option was to deal with the Nexu quietly. Knowledge and the Force would be his best defense against the creature. He willed himself to conduct a Jedi calming technique and assessed what he knew of the beasts.

Nexu were not native to Darmoth, and their pale coats provided poor camouflage for the feline predators. Despite this, they had managed to assimilate themselves into the ecosystem with little trouble. The creatures were agile hunters that possessed an acute sense of smell and hearing, sported razor-sharp claws and fanged teeth, and were even capable of limited infrared-spectrum vision. The Nexu had earned their title as the jungle stalkers of Darmoth for their predatorial abilities, and had even superseded the native Rancors as the apex predators. Their effectiveness as hunters had been the natural inspiration for the Republic's adoption of thermal scanners.

The Nexu were menacing, but the beasts were over-reliant on their tracking abilities and Padros intended to exploit them. If he properly impaired the beast, he could go unnoticed and avoid a melee altogether. A smile formed on his lips as he pictured how proud Charren would be of his assessment. He gathered the force within him, and prepared to intercept the approaching creature.

The beast finally slunk out of the darkness and its pale coat glistened in the scattered rays of moonlight. It had its nose to the ground though, and seemingly failed to notice Padros at all. The oversight caught the Jedi completely off guard, and he simply watched as the beast continued to prowl along the stream. It reached the spot where the Carrouga had been and turned its attention to the direction they had retreated. Padros began to ease at the thought of catching a break for the first time that night, but noticed the Nexu had stopped moving. It simply stood there by the stream and flicked its tail, as if deciding whether or not to hunt the prey down.

The moment dragged on longer than Padros would have liked, and he finally decided to act. He articulated his hand and subtly touched the Nexu's mind with the force and began to whet its appetite. Padros felt its thoughts grow more feral, yet it still lingered. He stirred the beast's excitement and then pressed it to charge after its prey, but it recoiled instead and snapped to attention, aware of the influence. "Shit!" he thought. While he had have failed at subtlety, the beast had still not visually detected him yet. Padros brought both hands to bear and bombarded the Nexu with the full power of his abilities and wrestled for control of its thoughts. The creature's mind was surprisingly resilient, but he wasn't trying to dominate it; he only needed a foothold to impair it.

The Nexu hissed and spun to try and find its attacker, but Padros clouded its vision and the predator began to panic as it sensed the unfamiliar loss of control. It charged forward and slashed the bark off of a tree then frantically at the air as it attempted to kill its unknown assailant. Padros had bought himself time, but the strain on his body would soon take a toll. The beast was in a total frenzy now, and he hesitated at the thought of approaching it for a killing blow.

The Nexu charged again, this time closer to where Padros stood, and he watched in horror as it mangled a small tree. Without thinking, he took several steps backward and his boot splintered a small branch on the ground. He nearly gasped at his mistake but caught himself before he made anymore unnecessary noise; it was already more than enough though, and the Nexu's ears perked up. It froze, then turned to look directly towards Padros with all four of it's blood-red eyes. It charged with fangs and claws primed to shred him and Padros was forced to release his hold and dive out of the way, but the Nexu rebounded all to quickly and snapped its jaw shut on his thigh. His greaves held the teeth at bay for a moment, but the Nexu crunched down harder and Padros screamed as he felt them pierce through.

The beast shook him like a ragdoll with its powerful neck and Padros felt a familiar temptation as his life flashed before his eyes. He sensed the hatred deep within him again, and he felt the call of the dark side to unleash it and save himself.

"Noooooo!" he shouted, and managed to draw the combat knife. He slashed the Nexu across the face and its left eyes burst with blood. The creature immediately released him and shrieked in pain, while pawing at the wound out of panic. Padros' whole body was in shock from the trauma, and he could only crawl away from the writhing beast. He reached a M'Odasha tree at the edge of the clearing, where he finally managed to stand and shake off some of the shock.

His greaves were falling apart now, but it had saved him from the teeth sheering his leg in half. He peeled the hanging plates off his leg and gently assessed the punctures. They were shallow, but still painful. He put weight on the leg and found it bearable enough to walk on at least. His chest pain felt fresh though, and he realized it had been further damaged from the thrashing. Blood was beginning to spill out from where the wound had once been cauterized, and he figured it would only be a matter of time before he passed into hypovolemic shock. He approached the base of the tree and sank behind the cover of the thick hanging vines, before he turned his attention back to the Nexu.

The beast was still writhing in pain, but had begun to coo rather than snarl. He almost felt bad for it, but the Nexu were apex predators and Padros had confidence it would still be able to survive. He had been so close to snapping its neck with the force, but he had managed to resist the temptation of the dark side this time. Padros took one last look at the creature and decided if it didn't attack him again, he wouldn't kill it, and that mercy was enough for him. He felt for his combat knife just to be sure, but grimaced as he realized it had fallen somewhere near the creature. He could only think of one option now, and reached out again with the force to manipulate the creature.

This time, the Nexu was far less resilient to his probe. He could reach deep into its mind, and feel everything it was thinking. He sensed plenty of fear and vulnerability, but not submission. The beast still wanted blood, but was in too much pain to retaliate. Padros pressed the fear of death on it, but to no effect. It simply regarded him with its remaining eyes, as if it were gathering its strength for one final attack. Padros knew he couldn't afford another skirmish, and with a sigh of shame, began to fill himself with the dark side to execute the proud night stalker.

He was disrupted by a hail of gunfire that slaughtered the Nexu, and he eagerly scanned for Edge to appear triumphant with medicine and an escape plan. Instead, two clone scout troopers appeared out of the jungle and moved in on the corpse. Their visors were dark though, just standard issue equipment. For now at least, he hadn't been detected.

"Target neutralized. Hmmm don't see too many of these anymore," the first scout remarked, then fired a final round into the creature's head to be sure.

"Yeah, glad we caught it off guard. This was definitely the source of all that ruckus," the second added.

"See any bodies?" the first questioned. "I definitely heard a scream."

The second scout looked around for a moment, then spotted the combat knife on the ground. He held it up for the first scout to see and gestured a sign of confusion.

"One of ours then… but I didn't think we had any patrols out here. No sign of the Jedi either; this Nexu would have lightsaber burns if that was the case." The first scout studied the corpse for a moment longer and noted the slash marks across the eyes. "We have a man down nearby, possibly still alive."

Padros didn't like where this was going. They could spend hours searching for a fallen comrade, or worse, call for a search party. At least they didn't suspect him though.

"Look, there's something else here!" the second scout grew very excited as he kneeled down to the ground. "It's a blood trail," he remarked. "It leads over there," and pointed at the M'Odasha tree where Padros hid.

Padros was trapped and he knew it. No mind tricks would deter them from finding the source of the blood trail, and he was weak and unarmed. When they discovered him instead of one of their brothers, there would be blood. He was too crippled to escape now either. They would just open fire, and there would be blood. Time seemed to slow as he studied the men and tried to accept what he had to do.

"Get him out of there, I'll prep the medical kit," the second scout ordered. He held out the combat knife hilt-first and gestured for the first scout to take it. "Take this just in case."

The first scout nodded in affirmation, but before he could take the weapon, it fired back into the second scout's throat. The clone fell onto his back and let out a gurgled moan before he died. Before the remaining scout could overcome his shock, the knife shot back into the air then redirected itself and plunged into him in the same manor.

Padros was grim when he emerged from the shadow of the M'Odasha tree, but he had done what was necessary to survive and managed to come across a decent medical kit.


	4. Chapter 4

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 **Star Wars**

 _Sentence of Death_

 _Chapter 4_

Padros stopped short of the dead clones and processed the damage he had unleashed. Both of the bodies were frozen in contorted positions and he could tell their last moments had been agonizing. His anger subsided as he recognized the subtle markings on one's helmet and he remembered his name was Toveo. He had been a key operative in scouting out hidden Separatist deployments in the jungles during the campaign. The man's ability to gather intelligence had saved many lives, including Padros'. Now Toveo was dead, like any other clone would be, if they were simply going to try and butcher him like a criminal.

If he didn't know any better, they would have seemed like good men just trying to save their injured comrade. In fact the scouts had actually felt human again. It had been a faint emotion, but Padros _had_ sensed the compassion within them at the thought that one of their brothers was in need. This had been the first time he had seen clones act normal since… whatever had changed. The thought made him wonder how they had felt so different when they had turned on him.

Had something truly happened to the reputation of the Jedi or had something simply changed within the clones? He decided to continue the thought while he patched himself up.

Padros let his scorched chestpiece hit the ground with a satisfying thud and he felt a degree of relief as the cool air breathed on his chest for the first time in over a day. He then inspected his necklace for damage, and sighed in relief that it was fully intact. The Jedi were allowed little in the way of worldly possessions, so the necklace was special to him. He had fashioned the jewelry himself out of the ancient blue kyber crystal that Charren had given him, and he had viewed it as a sigil of good fortune since he joined the Order. The soft blue glow comforted him in times like these and reminded him of good memories.

He clasped the crystal tightly in his hand and forced a deep inhale despite the pain it caused him. The breath came out slow as he attempted to calm his rattled nerves again. His pain threshold instantly plummeted, and he crashed to the ground, realizing the severity of his wounds. The anger he wielded to kill the scouts had only released the dark side within him again for a brief moment, but his body had latched on to the connection all too readily. It had made him incredibly resilient to pain, but the infectious nature of the power was beginning to scare him. He reminded himself that he had only done what he had to in order to survive and now he had the means to banish his reliance. He crawled over to the fallen Toveo and snapped open the first aid kit to inspect its contents.

Padros depressed the trigger of the bacta canister, and with a sharp hiss, a thick foam gushed over his ribs. He couldn't help but let out a loud whine as the medicine spread deep into his wound and stung him mercilessly, but the pain quickly subsided as the analgesics entered his bloodstream. The bacta application was a temporary measure at best, but it would fully clot the bleeding and keep his mind off the pain. He then covered the worst of the wound with a stiff gauze and attempted to secure it with a protective bandage, but his limited mobility proved the placement difficult and painful. As he slowly wrapped himself up, his thoughts drifted back to speculations about the clones.

He had never heard of any cases of mental illness in the troopers, but they had seemingly transformed overnight. They were far more vicious in their attacks than he had ever seen against the Separatists, yet their demeanors were fully compartmentalized, like they were just following orders. The thought of the Republic ordering the deaths of the Jedi seemed ludicrous to him though and his mind raced for alternate explanations.

The Republic had heard rumors of Separatist bioweapons specifically being developed to target clones, but there had never been any real evidence of the programs. The tide of the war had clearly shifted though in recent months, and it was possible that the Separatists could have unleashed something now that their principle leaders were either dead or near capture. It would have made sense for them to try and annihilate the Republic's armies, but this seemed far more insidious than anyone could have imagined. A virus or mechanism that drove the clones to kill all of the Jedi generals would be a far more devastating blow both militarily and politically for the Republic. It also meant the Separatists could _control_ the Republic's armies. Without the Jedi or an army, the war was over. He wondered if the war _was_ over. The problem with that theory though, was that Edge seemed completely unaffected. If it had truly been an infectious bio weapon, he would have been exposed to it in the camp and become like the other clones. The possibility began to seem unlikely to him and he struggled to come up with another explanation.

Was it possible that the Republic _had_ actually turned on the Jedi? The war had taken a heavy toll on the galaxy, and after the second year, many senators had begun to waiver in their support. It had also degraded relations between the Jedi and the public. Many believed that a treaty needed to be brokered, but the High Council had insisted on unconditional surrender. Many viewed the Jedi as warmongers, rather than guardians these days. The High Council wasn't helping either with their increasing political involvement and public distrust of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.

The severity of the situation still seemed suspicious to Padros though. The Republic wouldn't simply comply with the abrupt execution of all the Jedi. The Jedi were the first guardians of the Republic and the keepers of many secrets in the galaxy, but they had always been entrusted with expectation that it was for the better. An official dismissal of the Jedi Order, or arrests and trials would have been the expected procedure of justice if a conspiracy had been uncovered. Furthermore, the High Council would have needed to greatly overstep their authority and be considered an active threat to justify a military response and only Supreme Chancellor Palpatine would have been able to authorize it. His suppositions of betrayal also didn't explain why all of the Jedi were being targeted including him, a Padawan and minor in age. Unless the Republic had decided to start murdering innocent children for the sins of the Jedi Masters, his second theory was even more ludicrous than the first.

Padros made the last pass with the bandage and tied it secure. It was by no means a professional looking job, but it would keep the wound from getting infected. He then turned his attention to the punctures on his leg and began fill them with bacta foam too.

His head swirled with other possibilities, but the more he thought about it, the more it gave him a headache. He felt like he had more questions than answers now. Whatever the truth may be, he sensed it was monstrous and the future made him sick with fear. He caught himself after a moment and retracted the negative emotion. He noticed that his willpower was consistently eroding now, but it felt like it was more than just his failings that were responsible. The same temptations he used to resist were stronger, as if the dark side was attempting to claim him every moment he lowered his guard. In fact everything about Darmoth was beginning to feel different. A living shroud of darkness seemed to have fallen on the planet that night to prey on the chaos. It was as if a pendulum in the force had shifted in favor of the dark side.

He had learned about the living aspect of the Force from Charren and how the light and the dark fought for influence in the galaxy. The shift didn't make sense though, since Skywalker had recently killed the leader of the CIS and Sith Lord, Count Dooku. He thought the Jedi had finally won, but that didn't seem to be the case. The dark side was rising, which meant the Jedi had failed. Charren had been reluctant to join the Clone Wars at first. He had suspected it to be a ruse, sewn by the Sith to distract and divide the Jedi. It wasn't until the Jedi Order's numbers had fallen dangerously low that he finally agreed to take the fight to the frontlines. Now the truth seemed to be obvious. This had to be the revenge of the Sith that Charren had suspected was coming. Through their inability to see the real threat, whatever that was, the High Council had failed them all. It angered him, but he knew he needed to focus on the future now. He needed answers, and finding Charren was the first step.

The wound on his leg was now securely wrapped too, so Padros returned his attention to the task at hand. The injuries were finally in a stable condition, but his body couldn't take much more punishment. He had felt much better without the weight of the heavy chestpiece, but it was the only protection he had without a lightsaber. He begrudgingly strapped it back on and forced himself back to his feet. The weapon would have saved him a significant amount of trouble if it weren't for Edge's "brilliant" idea.

Padros had been too preoccupied to notice until now, but it seemed like Edge had been gone for far too long. He looked up through the opening in the canopy and spotted the first light of dawn then pulled up his sleeve and checked the clock on his smart display; it had been four hours now. If something had gone wrong, it meant he was on his own now. He didn't want to abandon Edge's efforts to help him, but he couldn't wait forever either. With the cover of dark almost gone, Joran would surely have even more troops hunting him too. His fierce desire to survive left him conflicted, but he remembered Edge's last words to him and resolved to have faith in his friend for a little while longer. He reminded himself again that patience was the way of the Jedi.

Padros glanced down at Toveo's contorted body again, and frowned as he remembered the service record of the once valiant clone trooper. Despite his betrayal, the man had still saved his life on several prior occasions. The least he could do was give him and the other scout a better funeral. He crouched beside Toveo and and crossed his arms over his camouflaged chestpiece, and straightened his legs. Padros been used to destroying droids for so long, he forgot what it was like to kill a living being. It was sad in a way, but a necessary action still. If he hadn't slain them, it would have been him lying on the ground, and Padros doubted he would have received a funeral. He began to conclude the service with a recital of the Jedi code, but a distant rustle in the jungle took him by surprise. He sensed a single clone, hollow like the rest. The blaster on Toveo's belt caught his eye, but he felt reluctant to make any more noise and instead used the force to rip free the combat knife still embedded in the other scouts throat. He caught the knife, then spun on his feet and prepared to sling the blade at the coming threat.

Branches snapped, leaves rustled, and a bird squawked at the approaching trooper. The clone was being exceptionally noisey, and seemed unconcerned with revealing himself. Padros found it unusual, but remained focused on the kill and held the knife steady. A bush finally parted to reveal the white-armored trooper, and a moment later, the clone was in plain view. Padros gasped as he recognized the unmistakable Phase I helmet and blue paint job, and lowered the knife in confusion. Padros had a bad feeling about the situation, but Edge showed no signs of hostility, yet. He was after all his best chance of survival still. Padros carefully noted the sidearm on Edge's hip and decided to hear him out first. He kept the weapon in-hand, but concealed it behind his back. Edge spotted him a moment later and waved before heading in his direction.

"So everything went well?" Padros started.

"Yes, everything went well," Edge replied stiffly as he approached.

An awkward silence followed the reply, before Padros reinitiated the conversation. "What did you learn about the situation? Did you retrieve my lightsaber by the way?" Edge was silent though, and Padros traced his gaze back to the slain scouts and Nexu in the clearing behind him.

"You've been busy," Edge noted. "What made it come back this way?" he said pointing to the Nexu.

"Some Carrouga. It was on the hunt…" Padros remarked with a degree of irritation. Killing a Nexu single-handedly wasn't an easy task. His friend hadn't even asked if he was alright.

"Guess that knife did the trick then," Edge notioned to the weapon he had attempted to conceal.

Padros lowered his eyes in embarrassment and revealed it after a degree of hesitation. He realized how foolish the attempt had been, especially since Edge had given it to him. The attempt at concealment didn't seem to bother Edge though, and he simply continued onto the next matter at hand.

"Looks like you got a good bit of use out of it after all…" Edge shifted his attention to the dead scouts and was silent for another moment. "Why did you kill them?" he asked with an accusatory tone.

"I'm… not sure I had a choice," Padros replied, taken aback by the comment. "They heard me fighting the Nexu and were suspicious. One of them had a first aid kit too, look," Padros pointed to his bandaged wounds and gave him an annoyed look.

"I told you I would bring one though," Edge objected and removed a large backpack. "This has everything you will need to survive out here."

Edge set it on the ground and began to unpack it, laying out a variety of food and supplies on the ground before Padros. He then removed his helmet and motioned for Padros to come and sit with him. The uneasiness Padros had felt began to subside at the sight of food and he realized how long it had been since he had last eaten. He didn't like the unfamiliar feeling he got from Edge, but it still seemed like he was trying to help. Padros settled down and accepted an energy bar, but continued to watch Edge intently. The clone's face looked blank and he avoided eye contact by preoccupying himself with the calibrations for a medical device.

"Those were good men. I recogni-"

"Toveo, I know." Padros snapped.

Edge looked up and his sharp black eyes seemed to pierce through Padros. It was clearly a look of hate, but then Edge seemed to ignore the comment and went back to what he was doing.

"I'm just saying you didn't have to kill them. Now go ahead and take off your armor, I'm going to check everything out. Just to be sure," he stated.

Padros was in no mood to justify his actions to the increasingly hostile man, so he simply shrugged and said "I'm fine for now, really. Thanks for bringing the supplies though." Padros took a bite of the energy bar and smiled at Edge who went back to calibrating the equipment. Padros immediately glanced around the jungle, trying not to be obvious. Nothing seemed suspicious, besides Edge.

"It's ready to scan. I insist," Edge ordered this time.

Padros didn't like that Edge was so insistent on him removing his last layer of protection, and he had avoided the earlier question of whether or not he had reclaimed his lightsaber. Padros finally accepted the likelihood that his "friend" was intentionally trying to make him vulnerable, but he still couldn't understand why. One thing was clear though; whatever had been done to the other clones had now been done to his one friend and last ally. The thought of running away crossed his mind, but he really didn't have anywhere to go. His wounds were far too severe to survive without real treatment. If he ran now, he would never get any answers either. He decided to take his chances with Edge for a little while longer.

The clone was studying him now, aware of the uncertainty he felt towards him. Padros quickly diverted with a question: "You never answered me about the lightsaber earlier, Edge... You didn't lose my lightsaber did you?" he said with a hint of sarcasm to try and de-escalate the tension.

"No, I didn't bring it back," Edge replied dryly.

"You said you would though. Great, so it's just rusting in the jungle now?" he joked again.

"I can return for it after I know you are alright. Now remove your armor."

"It's no use," Padros thought to himself. He knew he would have to attempt more aggressive methods if he were to get anything from the clone. Their eyes locked for several seconds before Padros finally had enough. He rose to his feet and drew upon the force, then pressed Edge for a real answer.

"What happened to you?" he commanded.

The move caught Edge off-guard and his composure immediately collapsed. "I won't bend to you, Jedi!" he shouted as he fought off the intrusion.

Edge sensed a disturbance in the jungle around him. They weren't alone; Edge had been bait afterall. Padros could feel dozens of clones closing in from every side now, and he knew escape wasn't an option. He turned to back to his former friend and unleashed a powerful field of energy that lifted Edge into the air and immobilized him.

"Why are they doing this to me! And why did you join them!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Edge was silent for a moment before he finally admitted: "We have been tasked with the execution of Order 66 by order of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. All Jedi are to be eliminated for their betrayal of the Republic."

Padros nearly dropped Edge at the revelation. "Was Palpatine be aligned with the Sith?" He riddled himself. He returned his attention to Edge. "Palpatine ordered this? I don't understand! He has been an ally of the Jedi for his entire career! He has specifically relied on Charren for special assignments for years!"

"And still your Jedi Council attempted to assassinate him and seize power. Disgusting." Edge snarled.

This time he did drop Edge, and continued to ramble in his and Charren's defense before the clone even hit the ground. "No! We didn't have anything to do with whatever the High Council attempted. We deserve a trial, you said it yourself!"

Edge began to respond, but was cut short.

"We have our orders," a stout voice responded from afar. Commander Joran emerged from the jungle in his unmistakable white and crimson armor plus a visor that radiated a hellish glow. The commander had always been fond of intimidation tactics, and had proudly customized his appearance to be menacing and aggressive, despite the lack of camouflage his color choice provided in conjunction with the local terrain. He was flanked by his elite squad of similarly clad troopers, all with Vanguard-model shotguns aimed at the Jedi. Dozens more troopers poured into the clearing from every direction, ready to kill him the moment he tried to resist; Joran had dispatched an entire platoon to deal with him. Without even a lightsaber to defend himself, he knew escape was impossible.

He turned angrily to Edge, who was just getting up, and screamed, "Traitor!"

Edge returned an angry look and responded, "No! you're the traitor! I'm done with you and your Jedi treachery! I have done my part to _save_ the Republic!"

It was no use, his former friend was completely brainwashed, and Padros figured it pointless to reply. Joran proceeded towards them with an arrogant look about him, and notioned for his troops to encircle their prey. Padros took a second look around at all of the forces closing in and realized the clone commander had mustered nearly all of his reserves just to ensure his capture. Padros didn't even realize he was that much of a threat, and admitted to himself that he was somewhat flattered. In the corner of his eye, he noticed Edge kneel to reclaim his helmet off the ground. The clone methodically slipped the helmet back on and secured it, and just like that, Edge was just another one of them.

"Don't try to resist Jedi, and I may show you mercy. Mercy that you don't deserve," Jorran stated coldly.

It wasn't like he had much of a choice. The last thing he wanted was a miserable death from the bitter commander he had already embarrassed on several occasions. He tossed the combat knife onto the ground and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"On your knees Jedi," Joran commanded.

He obeyed the order and dropped to the soft dirt. A trooper was on him a moment later to restrain him with field-cuffs. Joran was standing over him a moment later, silent and menacing. He couldn't see his face, but Padros sensed his satisfaction and was sure the man held a cruel, victorious smile on his face. He reached out with the force to see if the other clones felt the same. There was a degree of anger, but nothing like when they had been on the hunt earlier that night. They seemed to be placated now; they knew they had their prey, and were in anticipation of the kill. This wasn't them just following orders, he was sure of that. Padros could explain Joran's behavior. Clone commanders were bred and trained to think differently, but the rest of the men seemed faceless and inhuman in his presence. This was plain unnatural and he was certain they were being controlled by something or someone. Joran removed his sidearm and held it to Padros' forehead.

"I demand a trial!" he blurted out. "The Republic performs trials before any measures of justice are conducted!"

Joran cocked his head in amusement and lowered himself to eye level with Padros. "A trial?" he said sarcastically. The commander seemed interested in toying with his prey.

"Yes, a trial," Padros innocently affirmed.

"I'm not taking you back to Coruscant. You aren't getting an official trial," Joran dictated.

"Then at least an unofficial one. Here and now." Padros argued. "If I was declared guilty of treason by the Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, I demand to see the evidence."

Joran laughed and raised himself back to his feet, then began a slow pace around Edge. "The Jedi says he deserves a trial! So permission to speak freely, what do you boys think?"

To Padros' surprise, the eerily quiet troops followed their commander's lead and erupted into a chorus of laughter, mockery, and death chants, and he could tell Joran was enjoying every second of it.

"Alright Jedi. Padros. We've served together for some time. If you want answers then I'll approve your request for the little good it will do you. I have plenty of evidence for you, and I have plenty of time. Word arrived just before we left that my scouts have located your elusive master. I assume you know where he is?"

"The primary Separatist mining complex?" Padros asked with a degree of confidence. He recalled telling Edge earlier that night. The information wouldn't be a secret at this point.

"That's the one! Iridium Mining Depot-01!" Joran congratulated. "The facility is fully besieged now. I sent the rest of the battalion to reinforce the attack. Nobody gets in, nobody gets out. If the remaining droids down there don't kill him, we will. After we deal with you of course. So, he can wait. You can have your _trial_." he said mockingly.

Padros didn't reply, and instead glanced at Edge again who was unmoving. Joran picked up on the look and called Edge to the front of the circle.

"With all witnesses present, we will begin your trial. I'm sure you have many questions," Joran gloated. "Why don't I have Edge answer some for you." The commander turned to his soldier and issued an order. "Corporal Ed-... CC-9991," he corrected himself. "Why did you help the Jedi?"

"I was unaware of our new orders. I also suffered a technological malfunction, sir!"

"Now keep that second part in mind," Joran noted. "First I want to present the requested evidence. We're all about the facts around here, after all. Approximately seven hours ago, I received an emergency encrypted transmission from Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. A classified battle command in fact. Order 66, as it happened to be. Now, we have procedures for these Tier 0 commands. They require activation codes that only the Supreme Chancellor has access to. The Supreme Chancellor is the only one that can issue them, and he must issue them live and individually.

"Wait," Padros cut in. "You mean Palpatine contacted you _directly_?" He couldn't believe Palpatine had specifically ordered Joran to kill him and Charren, despite all his master had done for the politician over the years.

Yes, and when I receive a personal order from the ultimate authority of our government, I know it's not a mistake and I know not to question it. Tier 0 commands demand complete obedience and exact execution. I don't need evidence. I don't even need approval from my commanding officer. The fact that I haven't already killed you is a violation in itself, but you lack the risk factor of a full Jedi Knight or Master, and I respect your survivability for such a young man. Now, for the sake of this _trial_ … I will have you know that an official report did come in from the Office of Military Intelligence, and it read that the Jedi High Council attempted to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor and seize power."

"No, that's impossible!" Padros shouted.

"There is a path of destruction in the Senate building and four dead Jedi Masters in Supreme Chancellor's private office that say otherwise." Joran turned his attention to the dead scouts and paced over to them to pay his respects.

Again, Padros had no response for the commander. If what he said was true though, how could all of the Jedi Masters have been killed? Or rather who could have killed them. The answer seemed obvious now. Only a Lord of the Sith could have achieved such a victory, which meant they had allied themselves with the Supreme Chancellor. How could the Jedi Order have missed this? If the Sith controlled the CIS _and_ the Republic, that meant the Clone Wars was orchestrated! The entire thing had been a setup for… this?

For the first time in his life, Padros wasn't proud to be a Jedi. The Sith had tricked the galaxy into fighting the Clone Wars and The High Council had been played like fools. For all the talk of Grand Master Yoda's ability of foresight, he too had completely failed to safeguard the Jedi Order. There must have been signs, yet the High Council had simply played into the trap, too focused on the obvious enemy. He thought back to Charren's many lectures on force cycles, and realized his master had been right all along. The Jedi had only doomed themselves by not evolving to prevent this catastrophe.

He himself had witnessed the power it offered; it had been an invaluable tool that had allowed him to survive. The power was intoxicating, but he had turned away from it before... Perhaps it was the way out again. There was still a major problem though. He was restrained, weaponless, and nearly a third of the battalion was present. If he was going to attempt anything, it would require a greater command over the force than he had ever been capable of before.

Joran gently tapped the chestplate of each scout with a closed fist and issued a final salute to the men. He turned and extended a finger towards Padros. "Murderers and liars!" he shouted, back to putting on a show. "Not only is this Jedi guilty of conspiracy. He has murdered our brothers in cold blood! The evidence is clear, and the sentence is death!"

The troops grumbled angrily in response, and he sensed the opportunity. If survival wasn't the way of the Jedi, then so be it. The order could die out today, and only they would be to blame for their demise. He on the other hand, would defeat the Sith, no matter the cost. He was willing to use _all_ aspects of the force to enhance his capabilities. Padros began to draw on their emotions and gather his power. Joran, he noted, was still on a power trip.

"You know, I've fought with a lot of Jedi over the course of the war. You're great soldiers on the front lines, but your military strategy has always been reckless and rudimentary. It's ludicrous that the Senate made the lot of you military generals based upon your wisdom as mystics and warriors. A lot of clones have suffered under your negligence on the battlefield and I can't say I'll miss you."

The troops became more rowdy and aggressive, and Padros began to struggle to maintain his focus. The influx of dark energy steadily grew stronger, like Darmoth itself had joined in the frenzy.

"And who do we have to thank for this apprehension? None other than former Jedi sympathiser, CC-9991," Joran proclaimed.

The crowd turned their aggression towards Edge, who still stood silent at attention.

"Our brother, turned his back on the Republic to protect this traitor! After hours of interrogation by our talented field surgeon, CC-9991 finally realized the error of his ways and agreed to rectify his mistakes. However, seeing that his actions have led to the deaths of two of our finest scouts, his crimes cannot go unpunished!"

The clones roared in response, while Joran marched over and grabbed Edge by the shoulder. The influx of energy had amplified to nearly uncontrollable levels, and Padros was quietly shaking under the pressure. He had made a mistake thinking he could control the darkside, and now it was swallowing him up. His entire body began to feel inflamed and his eyes felt like they were going to roll back into his skull, but he couldn't stop it. His face screwed up in a look of terror as he continued to lose control. The power seemed to have a mind of its own, and it demanded he continue to gather it. He barely noticed as Edge was thrown to the ground next him.

"Let it be known, that all deserters and traitors will receive nothing less than capital punishment from this day forth. No longer shall we be bound by the laws of the weak and incapable Republic. My brothers, before we departed for this hunt I received great news. The leaders of the Separatists have been executed and Supreme Chancellor Palpatine has been ascended to the title of Emperor! Let us celebrate with death to our enemies!"

Tears burst from Padros' eyes as the pain plateaued and he moaned in agony. Joran misread the gesture and lowered himself even with his prisoner again. Padros opened his eyes to see the clone commander, but everything had become blurry from the tears and pain he felt.

"Oh yes, it's time at last. I can see your fear now, but don't worry. It's not your turn yet. Edge goes first. What do you think about that CC-9991?"

"Yes sir," Edge replied. He removed his helmet and closed his eyes, ready for execution.

His last bit of control slipped away and Padros felt himself be swallowed up by the strength of the darkside. He was immobilized, hostage to the omnipotent dark energy.

"The power of an inhibitor chip is remarkable," Joran affirmed. "This is what happens to bad soldiers who don't follow orders." He placed the muzzle of his blaster pistol to Edge's forehead, but kept his attention on Padros. "Are you paying attention, Jedi?"

Padros managed a look of horror at the response. Edge hadn't just betrayed him; he had been mentally enslaved, and now Joran was just casting him aside like a spent pawn. The notion sickened him, and his rage ignited like never before. The pain vanished, or rather became irrelevant to him. Then his vision returned to focus and he gave Joran a look of sadistic delight. The power he wielded felt glorious, and he was nearly in full control of it.

"What the…" Joran mumbled in confusion.

The clone commander reeled back in panic as he too witnessed the transformation overtaking the young man. The full power of the darkside flowed through Padros now and the physical effects had already begun to onset his appearance. His skin grew pale to reveal his veins, his muscles bulged with terrible strength, and his eyes began to shine a malignant amber. The clone commander had never seen anything like it. Behind the veil of his helmet, he was now the one with a look of fear on his face.

"I am not a Jedi," Padros uttered. The cuffs which had restrained him shattered into fragments of twisted metal and he began to mould a ball of dark energy in his hands. Pebbles, twigs, and other small debris began to rise from the forest floor, while the air began to ripple as a prelude to the coming storm.

"Open fire!" Joran screamed.

Every single clone trooper raised their weapon in an attempt to comply, but it was too late. Padros unleashed a devastating shockwave and the clones were sent flying in every direction, their screams drowned out by the sonic boom of the air pressure. Some of the soldiers smashed into trees and logs, and multiple armor plates could be heard cracking upon impact. Others violently tumbled across the ground or became ensnared in the surrounding vegetation. Many of the troops had been completely blown outside of the clearing, including Joran who was nowhere to be seen.

Padros rose to his feet, still enthralled by the dark essence that had given him strength and witnessed the devastation he had unleashed. It felt incredibly satisfying, and a smile lined his face. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but he had just dealt his first blow to the Sith by denying them his head. Some of the clones lay motionless, but many were rolling in pain or just in shock. He knew they would become hostile again in a few minutes. Joran had been so concentrated on capturing and making an example out him, that he had made the crucial mistake of concentrating all of his strength in a small vicinity. With a full platoon from the battalion temporarily disabled and the rest deployed to IMD-01 to deal with Charren and the Separatists, he knew the base camp would have minimal security. Yet again, the darkside had created an opportunity for him to survive.

The chances of him reaching the safety of his Jedi Starfighter were good, but finding Charren was a different story. The commander was still under the impression that the Jedi Master was alive, but that didn't necessarily mean it was true. Word of Charren's death could take days to relay back to surface troops. The deep tunnel networks and dense strata of Darmoth made it impossible to send rapid transmissions from underground.

The Separatists had run physical communications lines from the surface facility to their deep underground headquarters for their own networks, but once a Republic attack began, it was standard protocol to destroy or sabotage the systems. This tactic effectively cut the CIS off from their own external communications, but it turned any siege attempt by the Republic into a nightmare. The Republic armies had to resort to the archaic practice of foot runners to get messages from the front lines to command. The mines had exclusively been designed for droids too, so safety conditions were often abysmal and the smaller passages sometimes collapsed, leaving squads trapped until an emergency crew could respond. Commander Joran had wanted to just call in an orbital bombardment, collapse all of the entrances, then call it a day (one of the few things they could all agree on), but Republic Intelligence had deemed IMD-01 a "priority asset" that needed to be seized intact. "Easy for them to say," the troops had said. After the CIS fleet tasked with resupplying the mining facilities had jumped system, Joran had made the smart decision to perform a slow, but methodical invasion of IMD-01, until now.

If Joran had sent the rest of his battalion into the mines to clear the facility and find the Jedi Master, the Separatists had surely responded to the initiative with a counter attack. According to the Republic Intelligence, IMD-01 was the largest facility on the planet, and possibly a construction site for a new battle droid foundry. The report had concluded the facility was far from completion, but there would be no shortage of defenders. He had fought long enough in the Clone Wars to know it would be total chaos down there once the two forces clashed in mass. If Charren wasn't dead yet, he would be soon with both armies now gunning for him.

If Edge had still been on his side to help gather intel and navigate security checkpoints, they might have successfully infiltrated the clone ranks. Now it would just be suicidal for him to attempt a rescue mission, even with his new powers. The realization that he would have to abandon Charren finally sank in. His master was the one man he could have relied on to help build a new order of force wielders, but instead he would just be another casualty of the war. His passion burned at the loss, but Padros knew he still needed to ensure his own survival if the Sith were to be defeated. He also knew Joran would sacrifice every last one of his soldiers to kill the two of them. It was better not to be under the hammer any longer than necessary.

He considered attempting to find the commander for a moment, so that he could kill him right then and there, but he knew he would be pushing his luck if he pursued the vendetta. Joran was a vicious killer, and might still put up a decent fight. Instead, he broke into a brisk stride knowing his escape was still assured. He crushed several of the survivors with the force as he went, but paused at the edge of the clearing. Edge lay sprawled out on the ground with a gash visible on his head. Padros sensed the clone was still alive, but he looked to have suffered a concussion. The sad sight of Edge readying himself for execution was still burned in his memory. He felt pity for his former friend, but knew there was nothing he could do at this point to bring Ege back from his enslaved fugue-state. Except one thing; he could at least put Edge out of his misery.

He raised his hand, ready to project deadly force, but a shot rang out and he was forced to duck at the last second. He spun on his heels to see a lone, wounded trooper bearing a pistol. The trooper fired again, aiming for center mass. Padros responded with the force and imploded the plasma shot before it could reach its target. The trooper began to fire rapidly, but Padros dispelled the barrage until the weapon overheated, then crushed the blaster in the trooper's hand. Now weaponless, the clone attempted to limp away, but Padros crushed his esophagus without mercy. Before he could return his attention back to Edge though, several more clones appeared including some of Joran's elite men. He had already wasted too much time. The ensuing hail of gunfire forced him to back off, and he accepted that it was time for him to leave everything and everyone behind. He fled for the camp before anymore of the clones recovered to pursue him.


End file.
